Intertwined
by prouvaires
Summary: -he kisses her like he can find answers against her soft skin.- ArthurMorgana


_Shut your eyes and think of somewhere, somewhere cold and caked in snow._

**Disclaimer: **If I owned Merlin, season two wouldn't have been such a fail.

**Words: **1,924

**Rating: **T

**A/N: **Anyone else think the finale was a total cop-out? This is an attempt to release my pent-up frustration. By the way, I still haven't seen past episode 11 (aside from the finale, obviously) so I'm unclear as to whether Morgana has died – I hope not, because she's alive in this.

**Warning: **Season 2 finale spoilers. (but only slight ones, no huge twists or anything).

**Song: **Shut Your Eyes by Snow Patrol

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The pounding hoofbeats beneath her are not fast enough to assuage her fear, and she urges the horse faster still. It blows out hard, its black mane flying up into her face as she bends low over its neck, no saddle or bridle restricting its movements.

_Run, _she wills it, the images of the flame-eyed dragon standing over the terribly still body of Arthur flashing through her mind and making her whole body shake in terror. The horse slips slightly, and she just saves herself from pitching over its shoulder by grabbing its mane. She urges it into a gallop again, and it groans in response as she pressures it faster and faster.

A mighty roar in the distance shakes the very roots of the trees around her, and the horse jumps nimbly around a falling branch. They plunge wildly through the woodland until the heat of a fire makes her face flush and the horse baulks, rearing up, refusing to go a pace closer to the edge of the trees. She slips quickly from its back, hitching up her purple skirts and sprinting out of the woods.

She stumbles as she sees Arthur lying so still with Merlin, the charming, gifted servant, standing in front of him as though he can protect his master from the mighty dragon.

"Merlin!" she cries, and she hears his voice rising over the crackle of the flames, deeper than she remembers and filled with an unfamiliar authority, a language she doesn't recognise weaving a spell strong enough to subdue even the dragon. She runs to his side, grasps his hand, ignoring his surprise as she joins her strength to his, giving him the extra power he needs to truly bind the dragon to his will.

She clutches his hand tightly as the dragon bows his head and sighs deeply, seeming to fall in on himself. She's not really listening as Merlin converses with him – her attention is all on Arthur, reaching out with her magic to try to discover if he's still alive, if he is too badly wounded to save. She gives a small jolt of dismay when she realises he is awake, sitting up, watching in amazement as Merlin commands the dragon away.

She touches his mind gently. _Keep silent for now, _she entreats softly, more a whisper of a thought than an order. She's not facing him, but she senses his head whipping around, his eyes searching for the person speaking to him.

_Don't panic, _she says quietly. _You're safe._

"That's debatable," she hears him mutter behind them, and he draws his sword, the soft rasp of metal on metal masked in the storm of the dragon taking off.

"You did it," Morgana congratulates Merlin, her head bowed. She is unsure of how his feelings for her are, and whether their friendship still survives. He stares at her for a moment, tears rising in his eyes, and then he gives a shout of delight and picks her up, whirling her round and round. They're both laughing, and he's shouting something against her ear.

"We did it!" he exclaims over and over, and she buries her face in his neck and breathes him in and wishes they could just go back to before, to the easy friendship they had before she was plotting to destroy his home.

"Why are you here?" he asks suddenly, putting her down and studying her intently. She knows she looks a sight – her eyes are red-rimmed from the terrified tears that leaked out when she thought Arthur was dead, her hair is full of leaves and twigs and her dress is torn, ripped on branches when the horse crashed through the forest.

"I saw the dragon attacking," she explains quickly. "I saw Arthur die …"

"Yes, well, I'm quite clearly _not _dead," a voice interjects from behind her, and she whirls to see Arthur standing tensely, his sword drawn and pointing straight at her. "Careful, Merlin, you can see how powerful her magic is."

She doesn't have time for his games today. "Arthur Pendragon, you are the most selfish, arrogant, vain and _blind _creature I have ever had the misfortune to come across! Can you not _see _how talented Merlin is? Do you not realise how many times he's saved your damn ungrateful hide with his magic, but not been able to admit it because of your murderer father? That spell was not my doing."

Her chest rises and falls dramatically as she stares him down, and then the sword falls from his hand and he drops to his knees, shooting Merlin a look of such terrible betrayal that Morgana takes a step back.

"Why … ?" he trails off, and he is so piteous as he crumples that Merlin rushes forwards.

"No!" he cries, backing away, retrieving his sword. "Get out of my sight," he hisses at the warlock. "Get away or I'll _kill_ you."

_Let me deal with him, _Morgana whispers into Merlin's mind. _It's my fault, I'm sorry. He brings out the worst in me._

"If he kills me because of this I will come back as a ghost and haunt you for the rest of your life," Merlin promises, shooting the bewildered prince one last worried glance as he turns and trudges away.

"Arthur," she murmurs, ignoring his threats and moving closer to him, batting the sword away with one finger as though it's a twig. "His magic isn't dangerous."

"Not like yours, then?" he retorts, and some of his old sparkle is returning as he regards her askance.

"What happened to you, Arthur?" she inquires softly, moving so that she's only a hands-breadth away from him. He shifts on the spot with indecision.

"The bloody great dragon, that's what happened."

She frowns. "That's not what I meant and you know it. What changed about you? Before the Questing Beast, you were … you were so alive and passionate and cold. Now you're … so different. It's like you've been replaced by a shape-shifter. You're not really a troll, are you?"

He glares at her, taking a step back and tightening his hold on his sword. "Now's not the time for jokes, Morgana. You're trying to destroy everything I hold most dear."

She snorts, gesturing around herself wildly. "The person you hold most dear is going to kill you, Arthur," she tells him furiously. "My stupid little serving-girl is in love with that Lancelot, and always has been. You forget I know the future," she adds when he opens his mouth to protest. "I've seen him return to Camelot when you are king and she is queen, and I've seen them run away together. I've seen you fight him over her, and seen him kill you."

"I don't believe you," he says, but his voice is tight and she sees the lie in his eyes.

"Don't choose her, Arthur. Come away with me."

He looks down at the ground, his gaze fixing on his boots for a moment before it rises back to meet hers, blue into green. "You know I can't. Camelot needs me."

She sighs and turns away from him, battling down the tears she promised she'd never cry. "Remember those nights by the fire, before all of this?" she asks quietly, and she hears his intake of breath and knows he remembers. "You said to imagine the perfect place, and I told you about a secret place in the cold and the snow away from everyone and everything, where we could just be ourselves, be with each other, and not have to worry about anything."

His voice is husky as he sheaths his sword and cups her cheek with his gloved palm, turning her face to view fully. "I wish I could, Morgana. But you know I can't. You could return to Camelot with me …" he trails off hopefully, and as her eyes meet his she sees his love for her in his clear, direct gaze.

"And run straight into Uther's arms and be executed tomorrow? I don't think so."

He shifts suddenly, running an angry hand through his hair.

"What am I going to do about Merlin? I can't believe he didn't tell me that he has magic."

She glares at him, stepping even closer and pushing a finger against his chest. "You know full well that you would have reported him to your stupid father and he would be dead by now. He only kept it secret so that he could continue to protect you, and a good thing he did!"

He rubs a hand over his face, and suddenly his eyes snap to meet hers and his lips crash onto hers as though he can find answers against her soft skin. Her clothes come off quickly, and she's not surprised as his follow. He's needed this, she's needed this – she's been missing him and his scent and his taste on her tongue as they move together on the scorched earth, his mouth devouring hers hungrily as he takes her.

When they are finished, he dresses quickly, and she pulls on her torn purple dress and calls her anxious horse out of the trees.

"Say nothing to your father of Merlin," she warns as she leaps onto the black back of her horse, and he reaches to pull her down for another searing kiss.

"Come back," he implores her, and she half-smiles.

"Send word when you are king and your father has passed on. I'll be with the druids."

"What should I say to Guinevere?" he asks, and she knows that he still loves the maid. It makes her sick to her soul, but the anguish is assuaged by the knowledge that he loves her more, and just won't admit it to himself. He might love Gwen, but he needs Morgana like air and water.

"Tell her she can have Lancelot," she suggests with a feral grin, and he has to suppress a slight shiver as he is reminded what she's capable of.

"Please, Morgana – be careful. Don't hurt anyone else."

She smiles at him and reaches down to run a hand through his hair, caressing his cheek gently. "It is your father who is to blame for all the suffering in this world. Never forget that."

"I'll miss you," he admits quietly as the horse prances on the spot.

"As I'll miss you. Just close your eyes and imagine our secret place – that's what I'll do. And I'll return when you are king."

"You swear?" his voice trembles slightly, the desperation inside him breaking through his outer masquerade of coolness and detachment.

She allows the magic to flow through her, binding her to her oath as she says, "I swear by my own life and the light of the moon that I will return to you, Arthur Pendragon, my love."

He kisses her one final time, and then turns and walks away as she tugs the horse around and sets it at a canter into the forest. They both steal one last glance over their shoulders, and think that maybe, in the future, they'll be able to just be themselves again, like when they were children, without her dangerous gifts and his responsibility making them feel the guilt they shouldn't.

_I love you, _she whispers into his head just before she passes out of range, and he sends back no words, just the feeling of his overwhelming love for her. Then she's gone and he finds Merlin waiting on the path and their paths separate for the time being, with her promise binding their futures together.

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**A/N: **I'm worried now that it doesn't make much sense – it's almost 1am and my brain has stopped working. Eh, well. Please don't favourite without leaving a review, thanks!


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